


Your Fingerprints Are Burned Onto My Heart

by RandomWordsAndStormyDays



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Assault, Car Accident, Deacon and Nora meet in different worlds in different times, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, Mentions of PTSD, Period-Typical Sexism, Soulmates, There's no real happiness in the first four lives, Until He Can't, also there's happy stuff like, don't expect anything happy until the last chapter, each time Deacon runs from her, fate and destiny are people, just sadness and heartbreak, more sadness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:48:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22652758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomWordsAndStormyDays/pseuds/RandomWordsAndStormyDays
Summary: The four lives where Deacon runs from his soulmate, and the one time he stays.Each life is set in a different universe.
Relationships: Deacon/Female Sole Survivor, Deacon/Sole Survivor (Fallout)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 24





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea I've had rumbling around in my brain for some time now. The first chapter is just a build up, no real substance or plot, just an introduction to the themes I'll be exploring through Deacon and Nora's alternate universe lives until finally settling on the world built in Fallout 4.
> 
> Tags will be updated with every new chapter. And please be patient with updates. They'll likely be once a month, maybe more, and I'll try not to make it less than that.
> 
> EDIT 26 FEB: Chapter 3 is up!

**Preface:** Soulmates are a funny thing. Common misconception brings people to believe that soulmates are perfect, unfailable, that if someone found their match they would be happy forever. It’s a myth born from fairy tales and wide-eyed children, it’s a lie. A lie that has become a desperate hope for lost individuals. It doesn’t matter the universe, the time period, the way they distinguish their soulmate from the crowd, or the people involved. These people lie to themselves, until it swallows them whole, leaving them feeling broken and empty.

_I’ll quit smoking when I meet my soulmate_ , a man says. A man who dies from lung cancer three weeks after meeting the person the universe picked for him. Leaving a nasty red and jagged line across the first words spoken between the two mates, forever marked on the shoulder of the man he never got to love.

_When I find my soulmate, I’ll finally have the strength to leave him_ , a woman whispers to herself as she carefully hides her bruises beneath makeup. Six months later and the woman’s soulmate stares at the name on a grave, the same name that she’s seen on her wrist since she turned 18. The name of a woman, killed by her abused boyfriend, before they could ever meet.

_I’ll stop once my soulmate shows me what love is supposed to be_ , a teenager thinks as they drag a blade across their wrist. Unaware that their soulmate is thinking the same thing, only their poison is pills, and tonight they’re going to take too many. They finally dig the knife too deep when the mark on their leg fades, signifying that their perfect half is gone, and with them, their chance for love.

Of course, it’s not all bad. If it were, then no one would believe, no one would spend their life telling themselves the lies that the world so desperately wants to believe. More people get their happy endings than don’t, or maybe people only think that, because the happy stories are the ones they choose to read, to see. To believe.

An 85 year old man meets his soulmate, both of them old and gray, with marriages and children and grandchildren between them. Both of them widowed, both of them happy when the end finally comes. Happy because they died knowing the color of their children’s eyes, something most people never know.

A Soldier comes home from war, riddled with memories of dead friends, suffering inside the depths of his own mind. The nurse at the VA hospital moves his wrist to prepare and IV, and their worlds burst into color. With the help of his soulmate, recovery is easier, not perfect, not quick- PTSD will be a marker on his brain for the rest of his life, but his new wife understands, is there for him when the memories are too much.

A chance meeting on a crowded subway sends a woman stumbling down onto the train car floor, book thrown. A man hands it back to her, and then speaks the words she’s waited to hear for 24 years. Her response is one of wonder, and the world fades away as they introduce each other, learn to love even with their differences and misunderstanding. Content and satisfied to know that they are with who they were meant to be with.

Not all good. Not all bad. But where does that leave the rest of the world? The people who are unsure if they want a soulmate, who don’t want to miss out on the opportunity for a family of their soulmate comes too late, who find that their soulmates aren’t good. The people who are hurt by the one person in the world who is supposed to protect them?

Life is not a simple math equation. Sometimes the life lines of two people, even soulmates, are never meant to meet, or are only meant to cross for a moment in time before parting forever. Life is not a fairy tale, where meeting someone tosses aside all the woes and pain of the world. Destiny exists. Fate exists. But they are just as flawed as the rest of the strings that hold life together. Just as flawed as people. They are not perfect, so how could the people that they pick for others be? What makes them the deciding factor in the world?

What happens when one man, so broken, fights the woman that they pick for him at every turn? In every new universe? What will Destiny and Fate do? They say that doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results, is a sign of madness, insanity.

But who has the guts to tell Old Gods that they’re wrong? That their decisions are misguided, incorrect, and that they are just as failable as the humans they try to govern?

And what happens when, after many lives, and reincarnations, the person who fought against these decisions, these set-in-stone motions, finally realizes that he can’t run, and that maybe, if he just let Fate and Destiny take charge, he could finally be happy?

\- - -

The Goddess Fate stares down at the soul in her hands, turning it around and around until she sees who it will become. Sees his life laid out by her own strings. The soul, only a few centuries old but ready to be born, struggles against the path she has set. It’s not the first time, but this kind of thing is rare, and she frowns.

She calls out to her sister, The Goddess Destiny, who meander overs, slowly and with no regard for the eons that pass as she takes her time. Irritated with having to wait, Fate shoves the soul into her sister’s hands.

“This soul is going to fight us.”

Destiny hums and peers at the ball of light. “He cannot run forever, dear sister.” The Goddess tilts the soul, letting it rush like water through her fingers. “He is sad, before even being born.”

Fate recognizes the softness in her voice, the gentle way she speaks, and knows that her sister will not help her with the testy human life. “His sadness has been fated, by my choice, by the choice of all who have come before.”

Her sister frowns, gathering the soul like a child in her arms, “I could destine him for more, for love not just loss, for happiness, not just pain.”

Irritated Fate steals the soul back, it turns to ice between her fingers. “I already told you, he will only fight us, fight you, you want to waste your time,” she turns back to the basin of souls, swirling infinitely below her. “Where is the one he is destined for, the one destined for him?”

Destiny peers over the edge of the basin, her eyes lazily darting from soul to soul before she reaches down and picks one up. This soul is bright, warm even from a distance. It echoes of happiness won through determination, through understanding and belief. “She is meant for him, it is destined.”

“It is fate.” Fate moves the cold soul closer, but instead of it feeding from the others warmth, it shies away. Curling itself further into Fate’s hands. Running from its chosen.

The soul in Destiny’s hand does the opposite, it moves quickly, reaching out for its other half, ready to accept the bond before its creation is set in stone.

“He will run.” Fate says. “We should not bother with his life, it will only bring unrest and imbalance.”

“She will chase him,” Destiny counters, “why deny these souls the chance to be happy. It is destined.”

“It is fate.”

Fate knows that Destiny will win, too eager to see her influence succeed, even if it takes a thousand tries. Destiny will rebirth these souls until they meet, until they accept each other, until they realize that their fate lines are crossed and tangled forever. With little thought she rolls the soul in her hands into a tight ball, preparing it for its journey from the Realm of the Gods.

Destiny does the same to the soul in her hands, twisting and smoothing until it’s compact. “I do not know why you argue with me, dear sister.”

Fate smirks slyly and drops the combative soul in her hands, watching it until it disappears below them, ready to be born, “it is destined.”

Destiny sighs and releases the kinder soul, watches it do the same, and then whispers, “it is fate.”


	2. When We Touch, Then You Will See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This world's soulmate marker: Everyone is born seeing no color, only black, white, and gray. Upon skin-to-skin contact with one's soulmate, the world gains its color. When the soulmate dies the color goes away and leaves gray-scale vision behind.
> 
> Deacon is a member of the Underground railroad, and Nora is a farmer's wife who secretly helps escaped slaves without her spouse's knowledge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this took me so long, I swear chapter 3 won’t take me forever.

Deacon is born on a warm summer morning, screaming before the nurses have a chance to spank him. The doctor tells his mother that he will be a testy child, and to be wary of disobedience as he ages.

Nora is born a few years later, into the coldness of the winter’s night. Doctors worry when she doesn’t scream, doesn’t shout, fear that she may die before taking her first breath. But then laughter spills from the child’s lips. The nurses smile at the sound, tell the waiting parents that their daughter is happy, and full of joy.

Neither of them knows that two Goddess watch them, Fate and Destiny, pulling at strings and changing their futures from the second their souls were created. Neither of them knows how the other will change their life. They are both born into a world of gray, unaware of the fact that their other half exists, or that their connection is more than just random.

///

Nora’s heart thuds inside her chest, the rhythmic pounding sounding louder and louder until it drowns out everything around her. The noise of her husband’s yelling, the sound of the police’s footsteps, all so loud, yet she can’t hear any of it.

The police are tearing apart her home, looking for runaway slaves, and Nora is nervous, fearful, because she has three of them hidden behind the false wall in the living room. The one her husband doesn’t know about, the one the police are dangerously close to.

Her only saving grace is that none of them pay her any mind, they see her as a meek and unassuming housewife, if her hidden friends are found, her husband will take the fall. And that would make her both happy and sad.

If the people hidden away are found, they’ll be returned to the rotten and racist farm owners that own land south of Nora’s own home, and once they’re returned there’s no telling what will happen to them. Nothing good. But if they are found, her husband will be arrested, maybe executed, and she’ll be free. Free from his harsh words, and his fists.

Before marrying Nate she had been independent and carefree, excited about the possibility of going to school. Then, one day after church, he had caught her eye, and they began to court. The entire time Nate had been nothing but loving and affectionate, and while they weren’t soulmates, something that she’s now glad for but at the time had been heartbroken by, she truly loved him.

Then they got married and everything changed. He became controlling, she could no longer see her friends or aspire to attend University. Two weeks in he demanded she quit her job, and then refused to give her any money. Three months into their marriage she burns dinner, and he hits her for the first time. She believes him when he says that he’ll never do it again, but he does.

It only gets worse when he begins to go to the bar after work every day, coming home drunk and irritated.

When they go to church Nora has to hide her bruises under her clothes, has to smile through the pain, has to pretend that everything is okay. On the outside they’re the perfect couple, but at home, behind closed doors, Nora is suffering. If she has to choose, though, she’ll take the beatings over letting the police find any of the runaways.

The sound of a vase breaking has Nora startling from her thoughts, jumping at the loud crash. One of the officers, the youngest one who had been kind to her when they entered, looks sheepish and guilty as he stares down at the broken pieces.

“I’m so sorry ma’am-”

With a wave, Nora cuts him off. “That’s alright, officer, no need to fret,” she grabs a broom from just off to the side and begins sweeping glass, “it’s not expensive or anything.” She sweeps the glass towards the fake wall, blocking the path to it under the ruse of cleaning up the mess.

“Still, ma’am, I’m mighty sorry, if you want to file a report with the station I can give you my name.”

Nora smiles and shakes her head, seeing the relief reflected on the man’s face when she reassures him that won’t be necessary. “It’s really okay. Please don’t worry.” She knows she’ll be yelled at for this later, but if soothing the man’s nerves gets him and the other officers out of her home, then she’ll just have to deal with it later.

Another ten minutes of nervous worrying and finally the police have decided that they’re not hiding anyone, they don’t offer apologies for storming into their home, but the youngest one thanks them for their understanding before following the other two out the door and down the front stairs. Five minutes later Nate finds her throwing away the glass, tells her that he’s going to the bar, and lets her know that if the house isn’t clean when he returns, there will be consequences.

When the door slams shut behind him Nota begins to count the minutes. One turns into two, two turns into ten, until twenty-five minutes have passed. Then she heads back into the living room, slides the carpet back from the wall, and peels open the false section of her home. From inside three pairs of eyes look up at her, filling with relief immediately when they recognize her face.

“Come quickly.”

The two women move right away, but the young boy hesitates. “Are we safe now?”

Nora’s heart breaks, they’ll never be truly safe. “For now, child. But please hurry, you must go soon.” It’s enough, and has the boy standing to follow the other two. She hands them all some food and water, tucked into a simple bag, and then shows them a map. Carefully she points out the route they are to follow, notes rivers and lakes that they can use to throw off dogs. Instructs them not to stop until they meet a man named Deacon.

“Is he a priest?” The one woman asks.

“No,” Nora replies, “I thought so too, but that’s just a name he uses. I don’t know his real one.”

She gives them the code phrase to speak when they find him, and wishes them luck, shepherding them to do the door. Before leaving the other woman turns to her.

“Come with us.”

Nora blinks, she must have heard wrong. “What?”

There’s pity and concern laced in the woman’s voice when she speaks. “We are not dumb, nor are we blind. You are a kind woman, but your husband does not treat you right.” All three are staring at her now, and she looks at the floor. “Come with us, escape from his abusive hands.”

“I can’t,” she whispers, “if I go who will help those that follow behind you?”

It’s only a partial truth. Yes, she stays to help, to save as many people as she can, but really she feels too weak, too broken down. Hope left her heart long ago, and she can’t think of anything that would give her the strength, the courage, to leave.

“You are brave.”

Nora smiles sadly. “Go, before all my bravery is for nothing.” The trio leaves without another word, and Nora sets to cleaning the house.

A few weeks later, and everything changes. Nora is alone, husband gone and not set to return for ten more days, when a knock sounds at the door. It’s late, pushing ten o’clock, and Nora can’t think of anyone who would be visiting her at this time.

She opens the door and immediately begins to worry. Four runaways stand on her porch, a young woman, two adult men, and a baby. A teeny tiny baby, no more than a few months old. In front of them is a man she knows well enough.

“Deacon, hurry, come inside before you’re seen.”

They waste no time filing into her home, one by one relaxing as they realize she is not about to harm them. Before she can say anything Deacon is rushing to speak. “We’ve got cops on our tails, no idea how far behind.”

From off in the distance, Nora can hear dogs barking. Nodding she waves for them all to follow her. “Quickly then, in here.” Moving purely off muscle memory, Nora opens up the hidden room and ushers them all inside, Deacon does not follow them. From out of the corner of her eyes she can see a trio of men heading up her driveway. “You need to go with them.”

Deacon shakes his head. “These police don’t know my face.”

Nora huffs, “no, but they know my husband, and they know you’re not him.”

He goes to argue, but Nora will have none of it so she pushes him into the room. Her hand meets the skin of his upper arm, and she feels like she’s been hit by a truck. Her eyes crash shut against the pain, and all her breath leaves her in a second. Fire spreads out from their point of contact until it consumes her, lighting her up and burning her out. By the time she can breath again, heavy pants that don’t feel like enough, she can hear knocking from her front door, and someone demanding entry, and she also hears the very quiet voice of her newly discovered soulmate whispering “no, no, no”. And that just breaks her heart.

When she finally peeks open her eyes to turn around, she’s assaulted by sensory overload. Colors dance in her vision, sights she doesn’t have a name for, an image without words to describe it.

It’s beautiful.

It’s enchanting.

It’s everything she imagined and more.

It’s all wrong.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go, this isn’t how she was supposed to find her soulmate. It was supposed to make her feel lighter than air, no more worries or concerns or pain, nothing but love and understanding.

He’s supposed to save her from Nate, take her far far away where he’d never be able to hurt her again. But even before that, she was supposed to meet him when she was young and she wasn’t supposed to be married to a man who hits her more than he kisses her. He isn’t supposed to be a nameless face who spends his life running from the law, and he isn’t supposed to be disappointed by her, isn’t supposed to deny their connection. But that’s the hand she’s been dealt, and Nora is nothing if not resilient. So she shoves aside the disappointment and the bile threatening to claw its way to the surface, doesn’t look at her soulmate’s face - doesn’t want to see the disappointment or the resentment there - and secures the secret room once more before heading into the front door.

The door opens just as the policeman is about to start pounding again and his fist comes dangerously close to hitting Nora in the face as she goes to greet them. The man at least has the good sense to look guilty and apologize as she flinches away. Past the haze of color and fear and uncertainty she recognizes the three men on her doorstep, the same men as last time.

“Officers, what brings you here so late?”

“Ma’am, nice to see you again,” they share a forced but polite smile between the four of them, “but we have reason to believe that some farm hands might have run away in the night and found their way here.”

Nora fakes a thoughtful look. “I can’t recall seeing anyone tonight except for you fine gentlemen, but you’re free to take a look around the house, and check down at the barn out back.” She steps aside, giving them the chance to come in.

They keep looking at her face, seemingly confused, and she wonders if everything she’s feeling is written there, typed out in black and white across her forehead. Bright bold letters that say ‘FIVE PEOPLE ARE HIDDEN IN MY WALLS, AND ONE OF THEM IS MY SOULMATE’. She knows it doesn’t, but the fear is still there, pounding at her ribs like a jack-in-the-box. None of them say anything except for a ‘thank you, we’ll be quick’ and then they’re off to tear through her house once more.

The youngest cop takes to questioning her. Asking about any weird noises or sightings that she might have seen. Nora answers him in as few words as possible, too focused on the clashing colors of his socks and his pants. His socks are black, that color she knows, but his pants are the same color as the dirt stuck to his shoes, brown she thinks.

She’s so focused that she misses his next question. He gets her attention with a snap of his fingers that has her flinching away again. “Ma’am, are you certain you’re alright?”

Nodding quickly, which likey does nothing to dispel the man’s worry, she turns her attention back to his face. Light hair, light eyes, dark freckles in the same brown as his pants. “I’m alright, you just have me worried, I’m here all alone until my husband comes back and you’re telling me dangerous people might be running about.”

_Nailed it_ , she thinks as his face softens, she knows now all she has to do is continue to play up her act of the pathetic housewife. “I wouldn’t worry, we’re good at what we do, there won’t be any issues. Promise.” She smiles, something she hopes looks both reassuring and pathetic, and tries not to scream when she sees one of the other policemen entering her living room.

“Of course, you’re a fine group of men, and I have complete faith and confidence that you’ll handle the problem.” He blushes at the compliment and her eyes are drawn to the color. Red, isn’t it, or maybe pink? She’ll have to find a book and learn what the colors are.

A few more tense moments of casual conversation and the two other officers make their way back to her. “Well, looks like there’s no one here, you be sure to let us know if you see anything.”

“Of course,” she reassures, “and thank you so much for what you do. It makes me feel a lot safer knowing you’re here doing the Lord’s work.”

They can’t leave quick enough, and Nora foregoes her normal twenty-five minutes of waiting. After ten she thinks she might be going crazy, she just keeps pulling washcloths out of the hamper and staring at their patterns, so at thirteen she rushes back to the false wall and pulls it open.

“They’re gone, and I don’t think they’re coming back.” She focuses on the runaways, not Deacon, still scared of his reaction, “they’re heading North East, so you’ll need to cut back the way you came before circling around. They shouldn’t find you that way.”

The three adults take off, holding onto the baby tightly, but Deacon stays, hovers just outside of her peripheral vision.

“Nora-”

“Please don’t. If you’re not going to say that you want this, want me, then just go. Please.” She knows she sounds pathetic, like the woman she has to pretend to be with Nate and the police, and suddenly she’s wondering if maybe she is that woman after all.

She thinks about the first time she met Deacon, and wonders now if their instant connection was due to the fact that they’re soulmates.

He had been a protestor, standing outside the school she was looking to apply for. His hair was swept up like some sort of greaser, and was holding a sign protesting slavery. She thought he was brave, standing up in public for something he believed in, staring violent and angry racists in the face just to share his opinion. Their eyes had met and he stole her breath away like some cliche romance novel she used to sneak from her mother’s bedside table, but before she could introduce herself Nate had grabbed her by the arm and tugged her away, muttering about how all the protestors should be arrested and hanged for daring to go against the South’s way of life. His stand on politics made her uncomfortable, but he was her husband, so she said nothing, and she kept eye contact with Deacon until he disappeared out of sight.

The next day he approached her when she was waiting for the admissions office to open. For the next three hours they talked, and by then end, she found herself agreeing to attend a meeting later that week, where she was going to meet other protestors. She had been excited, checking her watch every fifteen minutes as the days passed until finally, after Nate had passed out drunk, she snuck out and took off for the location.

They discussed politics and laws, detailed plans to help slaves escape and make it to the North where they could gain citizenship and get jobs. Where they could own land and start families. Nora was enraptured with the group’s ability to stand up for something they believed in, to help others even if it meant putting targets on their own backs. By the end of the night she was a member, and promised to return.

For the next two months she attended weekly meetings, finally agreeing to let her home be a stop on what they called the Underground Railroad. Deacon had smiled at her that night as he walked her part of the way home, and it made her heart hurt. It was the first time she realized that she wanted to kiss him, but certainly not the last. She wanted to reach out and touch him, to see if he’d light up her world in the colors she had only heard of, but fear stopped her. She was married. This wasn’t right. What if he wasn’t her soulmate and she made a fool of herself? What if he was? It was all too much. She had thanked him for walking her home, cutting him off halfway through a sentence, before taking off quickly.

After that their only communication was through secret messages detailing times when people would show up to her home, looking for sanctuary. It hurt, every time she saw him, every time she dreamed of him, every time she woke and it was Nate beside her in bed and not him, but she was fine. She was surviving.

Now though, her voice shakes, and she has to keep herself from crying. 

“I want this.” Deacon’s voice breaks through her memories and she doesn’t jump when his hand comes to rest on her shoulder so he can spin her around. She finds the courage to look up at him, he’s even more handsome in full color. She can’t take her eyes off the shocking brightness of his hair. He brings her attention back to his eyes - a darker color, rich and warm. “I’ll come back, okay? After this run, I’ll come back.”

Her heart soars. “You promise?”

“I promise.” And then he kisses her, just a quick peck, but a kiss all the same. Then he’s gone, out the door and down the driveway before she can react. But still she smiles, happy, for the first time in a long time.

Two days later and Deacon hasn’t come back, but she’s not worried. Their missions aren’t short, they’re long treks across dangerous territory, and she knows he’s safe because she can still see the colors. She checks out a book from the library on colors and hides it under the mattress, somewhere Nate won’t ever find it. Reading it becomes her only hobby until she can point out colors without thinking.

A week later and Nora is a little upset. He promised he’d come back, did he change his mind? Did he run into problems? Did he lie to her? Or is it something else - someone else? She frets and worries, takes to cleaning the house obsessively to distract her wandering mind.

Ten days later Nate comes home, irritated, snappy, and clearly in a mood. He finds nothing to yell about in the house and heads upstairs. In an effort to keep the peace Nora sets about making dinner, potatoes, corn, and pork chops, Nate’s favorite. She’s nearly finished, setting out their plates and preparing to call down her husband to eat. When she turns to the stairs, mouth halfway open to call out, she sees Nate standing in the doorway. The book on colors in his hand.

“Why the fuck do you have this?”

Panic like Nora’s never felt before rips through her. Words, excuses, anything she might have said to defend herself or mitigate the situation falls away as fear grips at her heart. “Nate- I can, I can explain.” She lifts her hands, palms out, in a symbol of submittance.

Nate’s eyes are full of rage, pure, unfiltered anger. He flings the book, sending it flying until it hits the wall, denting it. It lands on the floor, cover bent and pages askew. “Is that what you do when I’m gone?” Nate’s words are like ice. “Whore around? Looking for your soulmate- looking for someone to replace me?”

He advances on her and Nora steps back, she hits the cabinets and realizes that she’s trapped. “Well let me remind you of something, Nora,” he’s so close she can feel his breath on her face, “no one will ever love you, because you’re weak and pathetic. You’re broken and can’t even manage the simple tasks expected of a wife.” He sneers at her and she flinches. “You’re mine, and no one will ever take you away,” his hand grips her wrist tightly, squeezing so hard she knows there will be bruises. “Say it, Nora.”

The word is on her tongue, _yours_ . He makes her say it, admit that she’s not going anywhere, that she knows she’s forced to stay. _Yours_ , she thinks of all the times she said it, broken and sobbing, stinging bruises blossoming on her skin. _Yours_ , she recalls all the times when they were dating when she had whispered it with love, how he tainted it the first time he made her say it, her own blood drying on her skin. _Yours_ , all the times she accepted it, because she knew she would never see the colors, who would touch her now that she was married, now that she had been with a man.

But she sees them now, she knows that she isn’t his, never really was.

He repeats himself, flaring with anger, but instead of cowering she stands tall. “Say it.”

“No.”

She finds a sick kind of pleasure in the shock that covers his face. “What did you just-”

“I said no, Nathan, I’m not yours.” In a flash he pulls her forward, sending her off balance. She stumbles into his chest and tries to pull away, but he’s stronger than her and she squeaks in pain when he squeezes her wrist again.

“See this ring?” He lifts her arm to show off the simple diamond band. “This makes you mine, colors or not. Some fucking asshole makes you see them and you think you don’t belong to me? You think anyone will want you?”

“He does.” Nora hisses, trying to pull back, only succeeding in hurting herself.

Nate smirks at her, tosses her wrist aside. “Then where is he, Nora? Where’s your soulmate?” He says the final word like it’s a sin, a curse. “Where is he?”

That has her faltering… where is he? He said he’d come back but it’s been more than a week. Did he change his mind?

“Poor Nora, what did he promise to take you away? Save you from mean ol’ Nate?” Her husband advances on her again, and she doesn’t have time to react before his hand comes up to wrap around her throat. With little effort he drags her back, crushing her against the wall. “He’s not coming, not for some pathetic whore. And if he does show up here, I’ll kill him, too.”

She has just enough time to think ‘ _too?_ ’ before his fingers close around her neck, cutting off her oxygen. Nora’s never considered herself a fighter, not really, but when his fingers tighten something inside her jumps awake. With what strength she has she kicks and punches, tries to claw out his eyes, tries to kick him in the nuts. She fights and fights until her vision goes dark around the edges, until she can’t hear anything above the ringing, until all she can see is the dark muddy brown of Nate’s eyes.

Her hand comes to rest on Nate’s arm, tries one last time to push him off, and then he’s flying across the room. As she drops to the floor and starts to cough, sucking in air as fast as she can, she wonders if maybe she gained superpowers overnight. That idea is thrown away when someone drops down in front of her. The first thing she recognizes is the color blue, then she realizes who saved her.

“Deacon?” His face is a mask of worry and anger, and she flinches back, away from the violence she knows can occur when that look is in a man’s eyes.

“Nora, are you okay?” The concern in his voice doesn’t match the anger she sees. “Are you okay, can you breathe?” She doesn’t trust her voice, doesn’t trust that it will come out whole, so she just nods. “I’m getting you out of here, okay? Can you stand?” She nods again, leans on him for support, but then he’s gone, pulled back away from her, and Nate is there again.

“So you’re the asshole that made my wife think she could talk back to me?”

Deacon matches Nate’s anger with his own. “She’s not your fucking property, she’s her own person.”

“She’s my wife.” Nate throws a fist that’s easily dodged.

“She’s my soulmate.” Deacon says it with such confidence it makes Nora’s head spin, and then he’s launching at her husband.

They trade blows back and forth, drawing blood, causing bruises, breaking open skin. Nora knows not to get in the way, she doesn’t know how to brawl, doesn’t truly know how to fight, and she doesn’t want to distract Deacon when he’s fighting for his life, for her life. It’s not until Nate gets the upper hand that she begins to frantically search for some way to help. She spots a knife, and is almost disgusted with how little she hesitates before grabbing it off the table. In one quick motion she slashes it down, catching Nate in his arm. He howls in pain and draws back, surprise and hatred burning his face. So Nora brings the knife down again. She misses as Nate ducks out of the way and then tosses her aside. She loses the knife as she falls, landing hard on her side.

In the next second her husband is back, hand around her throat once more, but before he can even begin to squeeze Deacon is there, knife in hand. He thrusts the blade into Nate’s back, twisting it sharply, until he releases her. Nora scrambles backwards and Nate falls, unmoving to the floor.

She waits for the pain of his death to hit her, or the reality of what her and Deacon just did, but it never comes. She feels completely numb as she assures her soulmate that she’s okay. He leaves her in the kitchen, blood on her skirt and her hands, and returns with a bag and clean clothes. Still feeling numb she lets him wash her hands and help her change. Then he urges her out the door, gently and calmly, likely worried he’ll scare her.

Nothing feels real. Not Deacon’s hand in hers, not the colors she can see, not the actuality that Nate is dead, that he’ll never hurt her again. Numbly she follows Deacon out of her house, not even bothering to spare it one last look before it’s out of sight. Then they’re off, rushing through the streets as the sun dips lower in the sky. Every step they take together has Nora feeling more and more. By the time they make it to the Underground Railroad’s headquarters, she feels freer than she ever has. Giddy with it, consumed.

Then a thought hits her and she realizes that she needs answers. She approaches Deacon, both scared and excited. “Why didn’t you come back?”

There’s guilt splattered across his face when he looks at her. “You want the truth?”

“Yes, even if it hurts.”

It takes a second for him to respond, and when he does his voice is quiet. “I didn’t think I deserved you. I’m not… a good person, and I’ve done terrible things. Plus, I thought you were happy already. I didn’t know your husband- I didn’t realize he-”

“That he beat me?” For some reason, it doesn’t hurt her to say it, outloud, for the first time ever.

“And when I saw him hurt you- I lost it, Nora. I’m not sorry he’s dead.”

She reaches out and holds his face in her hands. “I’m not sorry we killed him.”

Without really thinking she pulls him gently into a kiss. There’s no hesitation when he tugs her in closer, kissing her back like he’ll die without her. When they pull apart she’s smiling, happy for what seems like the first time in so long. That happiness stays as she takes on more responsibilities, as she learns that she is strong, that she can make a difference.

Then the news comes - the police found Nate, and think that Deacon not only killed him, but kidnapped Nora. Nora wonders how they even know who Deacon is, or that he was there, and then she learns that her neighbors saw them leaving together, and the police already know Deacon already from his Underground Railroad work. She learns that he’s been a wanted man for a long time.

He tells her that he has to leave.

“Being around you only puts you in danger, Nora.”

“You can’t go, Deacon, you can’t leave me like this.”

Back and forth they go, pain and desperation shared between them as they try to work out the best plan of action. Finally, he agrees to stay, for now. Only until they can work out a better plan.

That night, headquarters is raided. It’s chaos. Red blood and white bone. Dark blue uniforms against the multicolored mismatched clothing of the Railroad agents. Nora’s not a fighter, has never even held a gun. She’s not a fighter, but she has to try. With unsteady hands she picks up a pistol from one of her fallen friends, and clumsily fires back.

Nora lives long enough to see her world fade back into gray, then pain blossoms in her chest - a direct hit from a bullet - and she closes her eyes for the last time.

///

The two souls return, and Fate sneers at her sister as she grasps them in opposite hands. “I told you he would fight, that he would run, that our plans would not be seen through.”

Destiny sighs, closes her eyes. “He did run, there you are not wrong.” She then peers over at her sister, a teasing smile on her face. “But did he not return in the end, did he not fight for her?”

Fate doesn’t answer, stares at the two souls, one reaching for the other, fighting against her hold, the other cowering, fearful. She tries not to get attached, there are an immeasurable number of souls both past, present, and future. Caring too much about any number of them would only take her away from her duties, her responsibilities. Still, she can’t help but wish that he wouldn’t fight, can’t help but want this soul to follow her designed path.

Without another word she releases the souls, sending them back into the world, then she turns to Destiny. “Maybe new circumstances will change the outcome, I have work to do.”

Destiny watches her sister, knows that she’s grown attached enough to want to try again, and smiles to herself. Over the centuries she’s learned that Fate will try and try again to make souls follow their intended path, all she needs is a little encouragement and support, something she’s willing to give in buckets.

Disappointingly enough for the two Goddesses, their second attempt goes worse than the first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m excited to know if you guys like where this is going. Please let me know any feedback you have.


	3. Hear My Voice, Come To My Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This world's soulmate marker: Some people are born with soulwords on their body, the first words that your soulmate will ever say to you. If their soulmate dies, the words fade from black to white, and take on the appearance of a scar.
> 
> Nora and Deacon get into a car accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised this chapter would be quicker - however the next one if going to take me some time. Sorry guys.

It’s raining. It’s raining and it’s dark, and Nora can’t see but five feet in front of her. Nervously, her fingers tap on the steering wheel of her car as she squints through her windshield. She’s already turned off her radio, the sound making it difficult for her to focus on the road. The reflectors on the dashed white line aren’t bright enough to actually light her way, but they catch her eye and distract her.

Only a few more miles until she’s home. Another ten minutes out driving on the shitty road in the terrible weather and she’ll be back to her apartment where she can cuddle with her dog and drink some hot chocolate. Maybe she’ll add some peppermint for fun. First, she has to make it without getting herself killed, a task that’s easier said than done when she’s struggling to even make out the signs on the side of the road.

From off to her right she sees movement, and she turns her head just enough to see a deer dash into the bushes. She has just enough time to admire its beauty before red tail lights appear right in front of her. Acting on instinct and good driver’s training, she slams on her breaks. It’s not enough and her car crashes into the vehicle in front of her.

Nora has heard that sometimes when people recall car accidents they say things moved in slow motion. She remembers one account where a man watched his coffee cup rotate around and around before reality came crashing down. That doesn’t happen. One second her heart is leaping from fear and then next there’s a pain in her head and blood on her cheek.

Adrenaline is pumping too fast for her to realize that it’s only a small cut on her forehead that’s bleeding down the side of her face and she panics. Without really thinking she jumps out of the car and begins to inspect herself for injuries. It’s only once she figures out that she’s okay does she focus on the vehicle she hit, and the driver still sitting in their car.

The rain is cold on her skin and she blinks away the water running down into her eyes. Tries to focus through all the emotions she’s struggling with. There doesn’t appear to be much damage to the car she hit, which makes sense since she couldn’t have been going more than 35mph, but her front end is decently smashed and it hurts her to think about how much it’s going to cost to fix it.

Even though she’s been driving for eleven years, since she was 17, she’s never been in an accident before, but she knows there’s steps to take. Call the police, call her insurance, trade information with the other people involved in the accident. Her phone isn’t in her pocket when she pats it, and she returns to her center console, swiping it from the inside. When she stands back up, there’s a man standing just outside the driver’s side door of the other car. He looks a little older, late thirties maybe, and he’s drenched from the rain.

“I’m so sorry,” she calls as she takes a step closer. “Are you okay?”

He smiles at her. “I still have a pulse, so I must be doing alright.”

Nora goes to laugh, it’s a funny thing to say and it makes her feel better about the situation, but then the words truly register with her brain. She knows those words, has read them on her arm nearly every day since she got her soulwords. Those words are everything to her, they made her happy knowing that her soulmate was funny, had a good sense of humor. It let her know that there was someone out there that the universe had destined for her.

Nora had always planned to say something profound, loving, and encouraging. Instead what she says is, “holy fucking shit- you’re my soulmate.” If at all possible, the rain and wind seem to pick up, feeding off of her stupidity and embarrassment. She goes to cover for her outburst and instead starts rambling. As soon as she realizes that she’s still blabbering on and her soulmate hasn’t said a word, she stops talking.

Her hands are shaking. Leftover fear from the accident or nervousness from finding her soulmate? And why hasn’t he said anything, too shocked to reply? Or is he disappointed by what he sees? He’s just staring at her, unmoving, not speaking.

“Listening, standing here in the rain is definitely what I would consider to be a good time,” she manages sarcasm and she’s glad she can form normal sentences again, “but could we maybe deal with this and then- I don’t know get a drink?”

“I- I can’t, I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re right, you’re probably busy. I can just give you my number and we can-”

“No, I mean I can’t see you again.”

That has Nora pausing. He can’t see her again? Why the fuck not? She’s about to ask just that question when her eyes catch a glimmer of light. It draws her attention to his hand, where a gold wedding band rests, shiny and bright.

“Oh.” It’s more of a release of air than a word, and she watches him pull his left up over to his right, he starts to fiddle with the ring. “You’re married.”

There’s genuine remorse and sadness in his voice when he apologizes to her. Even though it hurts she forces herself to smile. “It’s okay… I can’t honestly expect you to just leave him or her.”

From there it’s an awkward exchange of insurance numbers as they wait for the police to arrive. Her soulmate, who she learns is named Deacon - a weird fucking name but whatever - sits in his car and makes a call. Her gut tells her that it’s his spouse, and she avoids staring as best she can. Her eyes fall to his license plate and she memorizes it. Reads it over and over until a knock on hre window startles her out of her staring and she looks up to see a cop waving her out of the car.

It’s over pretty quick after that. They take down statements, make sure everyone is okay, call a towtruck and wait with her until it arrives. Deacon goes to leave as soon as his statement is complete, and she asks him to wait. He hesitates, but agrees.

“I just want to say that- that I’m glad you’re happy.” Because she is, as much as she wants to beg him to give her chance, she refuses to be a homewrecker. “And I don’t want you to feel any guilt for staying. I- I wish you the best. Goodbye.”

Turning away from him feels like the hardest thing she’s ever done, and she took the bar exam four times before passing it. But she manages, doesn’t look back, doesn’t give into her instincts and her wants. She lets him go.

When the tow company deposits her at her house, she finally lets the tears fall, glad suddenly for the rain that washes them away.

A few months later, she’s at the grocery store, packing bags into the trunk of her new car. The one she crashed was hardly salvageable, and this one is much nicer. She’s finished and taking her cart back to the store when a woman calls out to her.

“Excuse me, are you finished with that?”

Nora turns, looks for the voice, and instead sees a familiar car - with damage to the back end - and a license plate she knows by heart. Her eyes dart away, heart already starting to pound. She’s not ready when her gaze lands on Deacon. He’s standing behind the woman who called out to her, not looking at her but instead fiddling with something in the backseat of the car.

“Uh- yeah. Yes, I am.” At the sound of her voice, he quickly stands and looks at her. Looking away she pushes the cart over, trying not to seem robotic in her movements. “Here you go.”

“Thank you so much!” She should leave, there’s no reason for her to stay anymore, she gave the woman - her soulmate’s wife - the cart, she should go. Her feet don’t listen, they stay in place. The woman says something to Deacon but now they’re both looking at each other. She needs to fucking leave. Now.

The woman looks a little exasperated with him and leans into the car. Nora is aware of these things, but she can’t seem to react to them. Her heart is screaming that she’s gotten a second chance, but her brain is reminding her that she has no right to come between them.

Then the woman leans back, a child in her arms. A child with her blonde curls and Deacon’s blue eyes. And that’s all she can take. Deacon goes to say something, reach for her as she turns away, but Nora is already gone, down the lot and into her car. She can’t breathe, can’t think, she drops her keys twice before managing to get them into the ignition. Driving right now isn’t safe, but she does anyways. Manages to navigate her way out of the parking lot through her tears and stuttered breathing.

Misses the light turning from green to yellow, then from yellow to red. She doesn’t even see the truck that crashes into her car before everything goes black.

When she wakes up the world is white, sterile, and the pain is intense. She cries out and a nurse appears, she hears a loud beeping and then the nothingness consumes her again.

Nora has no idea how much time has passed since the first time she woke up, but her eyes don’t open when she hears voices talking, because she recognizes them, and she’s scared to see the looks on their faces when they realize she’s awake.

“We shouldn’t have come.”

“She’s your soulmate, hun. You should be here.”

“I can’t give her what she wants. I love you, I’m not just going to abandon you and Hannah.”

“I know, I’m not worried that you will. But someone should be here when she wakes up, and her family is states away and won’t be here for a while.”

“She won’t want to see me, I’m just going to hurt her more.”

“Let her make that decision.”

“Barbara-”

“Don’t argue with me Deacon, I’m not changing my mind.”

Nora kind of hates that her soulmate’s wife - Barbara, she corrects - is so kind and understanding. She wants to hate her, wants her to be terrible and horrible so that she could have a chance. But she’s not, she’s beautiful and kind, and Deacon...he truly sounds happy. They have a family for christ’s sake - how could she even think to break that apart?

She needs to tell them to leave.

“It’s okay.” Her voice comes out broken and strained - how long has she been unconscious? Nora opens her eyes and sees them startle. “You don’t have to stay. I’m not asking you to.”

Barbara speaks. “Are you sure?”

Nora nods and it hurts, physically and emotionally. “Please go. I don’t want-” and fuck here come the tears, “you have a daughter. You’re happy. I’m not going to- I’m not trying to steal him away.” She really wants this woman to know that it’s okay, that even if Nora spends the rest of her life alone that she’ll be okay as long as Deacon is happy.

“Nora-” Hearing him say her name has her heart shattering.

“Don’t. Please, don’t try to make me feel better. Just go… please just go.”

Barbara herself looks like she might cry, and Nora can see guilt in her face, but she doesn’t have the strength to console the woman who took her chance at happiness from her.

“I’m sorry.” Deacon and Barbara both say it at the same time.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” she doesn’t know if it’s a lie or not, “so please leave.”

Physical therapy, and the loving support from her mom and dad, are what get Nora through the next seven months. She tells them everything about Deacon, hoping that if she talks about it more and more, that it will hurt less. It doesn’t, but when they leave she assures them she’s fine. She goes home every night to her empty apartment, just her and her dog.

It’s there when it happens.

Nothing in the world can prepare her for when her mark starts to burn. There isn’t a thing she can do as she watches the black mark fade, watches the words she fell in love with turn white. Nora knows what it means when soulwords fade, it means her soulmate is gone, dead.

And now she has a scar permanently etched into her skin, a reminder that yes, you can miss something you never had, you can grieve for a love that never was, you can feel more pain even when you thought you had reached your limit.

///

The two sisters do not speak when the souls return. Destiny is the one who must retrieve them from the basin, who drops them down into their next lives. Fate refuses, frustrated and annoyed, lives fall apart as she abandons her duties, until finally she calms. There is much work to do, many timelines to fix and souls to attend to. Two souls cannot take up this much of her thoughts, of her time. She must move on.

In her mind, she resolves that this will be their last chance, they can find each other and stay, or suffer through eternity alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you liked let me know with a kudo or a comment. You guys' support means the world.


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